today finds me feeling rather mellow, slightly morose, with a tendency to over-dramatize things. for some reason, perhaps the restlessness of the week peaking, i got to thinking about how some things are so out of my control. i'm sure we've all been there.
what, then, is the definition of living? people cross the roads with caution, the same caution that they believe is the protective bubble that keeps them from bad things ever happening to them. does that mean we are all, in some tiny way, trying to play god? trying to control our teeny universes from imploding seems like a full time job. more so, it crushes the urge to experiment. ahh, the illusion of safety. personally, i question how much more of this mundane existence i can take.
not to say that i haven't stirred my fair share of shit in my teens. but what does that even mean? that because i've had fun in the past, i'm too old for it now? putting it out there like that makes it sound ludicrous i know, but isn't that basically maturity we take at face value?
maybe it would be healthy to discard the belief that the mistakes of our youth sometimes follow us throughout life. maybe that will somehow compensate for the emptiness that come with age because if nothing else, we've memories. maybe.
here's an idea. why shouldn't i be as wild as i bloody want? reason has got nothing to do with the fact that everyone needs an outlet every once in a while.
because every once in awhile it feels good to forget inhibitions and just get lost in life.
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